


And I don't feel right when you're gone away

by stellations



Category: Sanctuary (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-09
Updated: 2016-01-09
Packaged: 2018-05-12 20:19:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5679439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stellations/pseuds/stellations
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Title from "Broken" by Seether<br/>Inspired by "Everything I've ever let go of has claw marks on it."</p>
    </blockquote>





	And I don't feel right when you're gone away

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "Broken" by Seether  
> Inspired by "Everything I've ever let go of has claw marks on it."

Helen hadn't come to visit London out of a fit of nostalgia this time, but it seemed one was always half a step behind her. She had only barely set foot in one of the old drawing rooms when she was hit with it, overcome by a sudden desire to see how in-tune the old piano still was. Taking a seat on the bench, she ran her fingers across the wood, surprised to find not a trace of dust. Apparently Declan still kept it in good shape. 

Her fingers knew where to go, knew the light dance they had tapped out countless times over the course of her life. She may not have had a reason to play in decades, but she still remembered how, could even recall some of the more complicated pieces she'd learned. She wasn't nearly as good a pianist as she once had been, but neither was she completely awful.

The dance sped up, past the key that still had marks on it from when she was young and hadn't wanted to give up her free time to do what her mother insisted was "proper for a lady." Later on in her life, she had come to regret not taking the time to enjoy her mother's company, even if it had been part of something she so thoroughly detested. After Oxford, she'd gotten over her distaste for music, had even come to like and appreciate what it meant, and endeavored to learn the thing properly. For the most part, she was self-taught, but she liked to believe she was quite capable.

Something shuffled by the door halfway through the piece, but she didn't stop to find out who it was. Likely it was Declan, as he was the only person who had the gall to stand there and listen to her. Or interrupt. Today she wouldn't allow him to interrupt. Instead, she bent her head further over the piano and allowed the music to carry her away. Only when she'd played her fill did she lean back, her eyes to the ceiling, and allow her hands to fall to her lap.

"I wasn't aware you could play."

"There's a lot of things I don't tell people," she answered, still not turning to see him. "This is one of them. Do you keep the piano clean for a reason? Does someone use it?"

"Dr. Watson always kept it clean and in-tune," Declan replied, finally moving up to stand next to the grand piano, well within her line of vision. She still refused to look at him. "I figured he'd come back from the grave to haunt me if I didn't do the same."

Helen couldn't help laughing at that, a soft sound full of the pain she usually kept buried. She missed James. 

"I never did get him to tell me what that scratch mark on the A key was from."

"That was my fault, actually. I was a bit strong-minded even as a child."

He offered a gentle smirk of amusement. "And you didn't want to do what you were told."

"Everything I've ever let go of has claw marks on it." 

It's a soft admission, but it means a lot coming from her. She can still remember watching James die, having John transport him back to London so they could have a proper funeral and burial for him. Like hell was she going to leave her best friend there in the bowels of Bhalasaam. 

"Don't blame yourself, Magnus. We've all got our demons. You don't need to carry everything."

She finally turned to look at him with a slight frown on her face, as though she couldn't quite see him. "But if I don't, who will? Most of what happens is my fault. I'm the one who has to live with everything, the one who chooses everything. The important things and people left their mark on me, as I have on them, but I'll never be able to bring them back."

"Magnus..."

"I'm alone, Declan, alone with the claw marks of my life. If I follow them, perhaps I'll find an ending that suits what I've done, what I deserve. I wouldn't wish this on anyone else and at least I know what I'm in for."

With that, she stood and left the drawing room, turning her back on someone who only partially understood. Declan was a good follower, a good head to have in second place, but he would never understand her as others had. James would have figured her out long ago and called her on it. Perhaps it was a good thing James wasn't here. He would never have allowed her to do what she's done.

Nor would he have allowed her to let go of so many things if she hadn't let go of him first.


End file.
